Le Tango de Roxanne
by Ireland O'Reily
Summary: Never fall in love with a woman who sells herself. It always ends bad." Roxanne was beautiful and bewitching, but when one of our boys falls in love with her it will destroy both their lives. Rating subject to change later on for obvious reasons
1. Default Chapter

Hey all, second story, and this time I'm aiming for chapters! This is going to be a relatively short piece based on the song Tango de Roxanne from Moulin Rouge. Disney owns the Newsies, Twentieth Century Fox owns Moulin Rouge...and on with the show!   
  
Rain lashed violently against the roof of the Red Mill Tavern in the lower Boston. The rumble of the heavenly war drums rattled the windowpanes of the dive while a cruel whip of lightning split the roiling black sky in two. The tavern patrons huddled close to the fireplace opposite the windows, making light chatter and filling their blood with warm ale...all that is, except for the darkened form hunched over a corner table.  
  
The stranger stared out at the storm, hazel eyes intense and focused on the tempest; the lightning briefly illuminated his brooding features under a down-tilted hat. His sensitive, high cheek boned face and sensuous mouth must have given him a very appealing look when he was younger, but years of anguish had hardened the handsome features. His face was that of one who had cut himself off from all emotion as though to forget terrible pain, but his haunted eyes told their own story.  
  
The women of the Red Mill were at work as such women are wont to do. Some sat upon the bar, legs crossed, skirts hitched enticingly over their knees, some strolled the crowded room. Others had already found their men and sat instead upon them. One such woman on the knee of a handsome, black-bearded giant named Robert looked thoroughly bored. Her man had come into the tavern at nine, had hit the ale with hardy vigor and loud jokes, and was now dozing in his fireside chair.  
  
Cautiously, so as not to disturb him, the buxom red-head rose. Her eyes roved the room and settled on the lone stranger at the windows. Smiling, she ambled across the room.  
  
"You look right lonesome over here," she rested a hand on the stranger's broad shoulders. His eyes met hers with a coldness that sent an involuntary shiver up and down her spine. Slowly, his glance shifted to the hand that was still on him, he snorted as if disgusted by it and shrugged it off.  
  
All better judgment told her to just walk away, but this man presented a challenge...and who didn't love a good challenge? "Come on now," she continued silkily, "Don't be like that. A handsome fellow like yourself has no business being alone..."  
  
A deafening clap of thunder resounded over the city but did not quite drown out the roar of anger from across the room. The red-head's man was awake and flying across the room. He threw the girl aside, sending her skidding painfully over the wood floor, and yanked the stranger from his seat.  
  
Most humans cowered before the massive specimen of a man, but this brooding outsider only jerked his coat lapels from Robert's grasp with an infuriating chuckle.  
  
"You'd best tell me what's so funny, boy," snarled the taller man, "Nell's been _my_ girl these past five years and I don't take kindly to no street scum laying his hands all over her."  
  
The accused could easily have pointed out the many fallacies of this statement, the fact that "Nell" as it were had approached him. But he only laughed again, shaking his head as though amused by the other's stupidity.  
  
"Never fall in love with a woman who sells herself," his voice was rough, as though it had rusted from disuse.  
  
Robert squinted at him, "What's that?"  
  
The stranger spoke louder, "Never fall in love with a woman who sells herself," he repeated, "It always ends bad." He gulped down the last swallow of his drink and crossed into the fire lit circle on the far side of the room. The shadows from the leaping flames played in the hallows and angels of his face as a brief flicker of pain creased his features. After a moment he seemed to regain control and he turned to face the curious onlookers.  
  
"We have a story where I come from. It tells the story of a prostitute and the man who fell in love with her." He spun to face one side, "First, there is desire, then passion, then suspicion. Jealousy. Anger. Betrayal!" He spat the words as if they were poison, his head constantly snapping from one face to another, his voice becoming frenzied and tortured. "When love is for the highest bidder, there can be no trust, without trust there is no love." He faced Robert, eyes glittering with anguish, "Jealousy," he whispered darkly, "Yes, jealousy will drive you mad!"  
  
The wind shrieked overhead and thunder shook the tankards on the tables. However no one so much as batted an eyelash. All attention was on the tall figure silhouetted against the blazing fire as he unfolded to them the story of Roxanne.   
  
Well? What do you think? I'm quite pleased that I was able to do this chapter; I've been so busy with school ending and all. It may be a bit before the next update, I've got chem. To stress over and a dance recital that's gonna sap up all my energy, but I'll do my best. Teddy Grams to anyone who can tell me why the tavern is called the Red Mill...it should be obvious. Love you all, R&R ;) 


	2. The Beginning of Our Story

Hey friends. I can't believe the positive feedback I got on the first chapter! Wow. tear I feel so loved.  
  
SPOT: forlornly I love you  
  
grins and swoons Oh, yeah...the story! Um....Disney owns Newsies, TWC owns Moulin Rouge. I think that's it. Onward!

Jack Kelly lay on his back staring up at the plaster ceiling of the bunk room. All the sounds of a Friday evening drifted through the open window in a soothing refrain. Children shrieked with laughter, balls bounced, jump ropes smacked the pavement, mothers called from doorways and working men chattered as they plodded home to supper. It was warm for October, still warm enough to wear shirts of light cotton and thin stockings, but the crisp undertone to the lilting evening breeze was a firm reminder that winter was soon to bear her teeth.  
  
Jack sighed restlessly. Today, October the eighth, 1900, he was eighteen. With one year left in the ranks of the newsboys, a lifetime of uncertainty stretched before him. One short year. 365 days and his life, as he had known it for twelve years, would be over. What was to become of him? Santa Fe was still a possibility, albeit a remote one, but most likely he would spend his days slaving in a factory, struggling to feed a wife and five children like every other poor wretch in the city. He sighed again. As yet, the future was not looking bright.  
  
The door slammed open, "Get up," a tall, slender girl strode briskly own the center of the room to his bunk, "Get up," she repeated, "I refuse to let you lie around and mope on your birthday."  
  
Jack glanced at her. Her hands were on her hips, her chin was set, and her too-blue eyes, though full of the best intentions, were firm. He closed his eyes again.  
  
"Wrong answer," she said dryly, hauling his legs over the edge of the bed.  
  
"Ireland..." he groaned.  
  
"No. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You are not turning into an old man, your life is not over, and you have a whole year to figure yourself out, so move it."  
  
Jack finally smiled. The girl he had regarded as a sister and best friend since they had been small children always knew what was on his mind. "See why I need to worry," he told her, "You know me too well...it's a little scary."  
  
She grinned crookedly, "You know you'd get bored without me around." She turned him to face the washroom, "Now go. Clean up, shave, something...the boys are taking you out tonight."  
  
Jack shot her a puzzled glance over his shoulder, "Aren't you coming?"  
  
"I will not be a part of that kind of debauchery...though I'm sure you'll enjoy it very much."  
  
Jack shrugged as he lathered shaving cream over his face, "I'm only human."  
  
Ireland raised an eyebrow in an expression of shock, "I think I might have to save up and buy one of those new recording makers since I'm sure I'll never hear those words out of your mouth again." She kicked at him playfully, "Don't take too long, you'll wanna get their before the major crowds hit...and keep an eye on Spot."Verte Violette was technically a dance hall. Everyone knew it was actually Manhattan's most extravagant bordello, but everyone from the mayor on down was perfectly content with the pretense of innocence. Inside, the most beautiful women north of Atlanta could be found, decked in scanty, though no less exquisite, costumes. Music in a rich tapestry of styles could be heard for blocks, and the dance floor never seemed to stop throbbing with the constant crush of people. Champagne flowed like rivers and happiness could be bought with ease. It was no wonder why it had become a Mecca to men up and down the east coast. Jack's jaw dropped when he saw it.  
  
"You sure as hell better appreciate this, pal." Race said as he fumbled for a match, "I had to take it easy at the tracks for a whole month to pay my share." Jack looked thoroughly confused.  
  
"We've all been saving to chip in and get you here for your birthday," Mush explained with a huge smile.  
  
"Yeah," Spot added, "You wouldn't believe how much it is just to get on the wait list, then we had to come up with extra to make sure you got service inside."  
  
"Yeah, we paid fat, so let's get in there and enjoy it," Race glanced impatiently at the entrance.  
  
Jack raised his eyebrows at his friends, all of whom had girls that they saw steadily, "We? As in all of us are going in?"  
  
Spot dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand, "Don't worry, the girls all know. They're okay with it."  
  
"Yeah," Blink snorted, "We're all here with death threats and worse, but they're okay with it. So let's go before they change their minds."  
  
Laughing and nervous the boys entered through the palatial doors of Verte Violette. Jack's name was indeed on the list for the night, and so at the behest of a tuxedo-clad maitre'd, they passed through the inner doors and into the dance hall.  
  
Their table was already set with champagne and chocolate, complements of the house as with every guest. For a moment, the group could only stare in open-mouthed awe at the splendor of the interior. Gilded balconies full off people rose for three stories on their right and left, an immense crystal chandelier, dimmed to give the room a surreal aura, dripped from the ceiling. The seats of the chairs were scarlet plush velvet and the matching carpet was thick underfoot. The dance floor (what little could be seen between the occupants) was polished until it reflected like glass.  
  
Almost immediately, a violet eyed blonde swept up to the table. Her gown of clinging green silk was cut low over a voluminous bosom, and hiked up on one side to display both her shapely legs and the rows of purple frills underneath her skirt. Her slender arm snaked around Spot's neck flirtatiously.  
  
The Brooklynite began to smile until he caught Jack's sharp glare. With a deep sigh, Spot eased the girl's arm off of his shoulders. She pouted a moment and then turned her gaze on Racetrack. Eyeing Jack slyly the Italian rose to his feet, "Hey, what Sapphy don't know..." he shot a look back at the table, "It's just dancin' fellas." With that, he disappeared onto the floor.  
  
Given courage by Race's daring defiance of his girlfriend, the other boys began to drift onto the dance floor on the arms of various harlots, finally leaving Spot and Jack alone at the table...with the champagne.  
  
The hours climbed on towards midnight and Spot refused to let Jack go off on his own, "The best part of the night's still coming." He assured his friend. And indeed, as the clock struck midnight and a hush fell over the room Jack knew what he said was true.  
  
From the center of the stage, a figure rose and a gleaming spotlight dropped down to illuminate a young woman. Jack felt his heart catch in his throat. She was undoubtedly the most stunning creature he had ever seen. Her skin was the color of old, creamy ivory, and her midnight hair gleamed in stark contrast twisted up at the back of her head. His eyes traveled down the length of her black and crimson dress, lingering over the ample chest and slender waist, brilliantly accentuated by the tight beaded bodice. Her full lips were red with vermillion and her smoldering dark eyes were lined in ochre. Diamonds glimmered upon her throat.  
  
As she began to sing from Carmen every man in the room seemed to lean into her voice itself, as though the closer they came to the sweet notes, the closer they would be to her. Jack was no exception. His wide eyes were trained on her slightest movement. She danced her way back and forth across the stage and he felt goose bumps roll over his skin like water.  
  
Spot grinned, "You like her?" His companion only nodded, eyes never leaving the performance, "Well she's yours tonight."  
  
Jack's turned his head, anticipating a joking smile. Spot was utterly serious. "What?" Jack was almost breathless with disbelief, "I get to...she's gonna...we're..."  
  
"Well not exactly." Spot admitted, "We didn't have enough cash for her to go all the way...but you get to dance with her, maybe even kiss her. I dunno; she's giving you all her time until six a.m."  
  
Jack opened his mouth to reply and stopped short, blinded as the spotlight shone right into his eyes. A figure stepped in front of him, blocking the worst of the glare and suddenly neither boy could think of any words.  
  
"Good evening gentlemen," Her voice was rich as gold and smooth as summer's honey. Those dark eyes, eyes that burned with an inner fire swept across the two and a dazzling smile bloomed on her crimson lips, "I am Roxanne, I believe Jack Kelly is expecting me."C'est Ca! That's it. I'm desperately sorry it took so long to update, but like I said, I had a dance recital. Now brace yourself for even worse news. It could well be August before I update again! I'm leaving for Europe on Saturday, I will return on the 26th and on the 27th I have to be in Richmond for a month long dance intensive. I will have access to computers, but it will be extremely limited. I'm sorry! I can only promise that I'll keep writing this down in my notebook so I can update right when I get home! Teddy Grahams for everyone who guessed correctly that Moulin Rouge = Red Mill. Next up, Godiva goodness to anyone who can tell me who won the Tony for best musical (the award show was great, it included Hugh Jackman dancing in gold lame pants!) Now, on to Shout Outs!  
  
**Lucky**- Science in general sucks. I can't wait to get to college and not take it any more! Thank you so much for reviewing! big hug  
  
**Dakki**- No! Not the unconscious Argentinean! I'll be good! I'll update! lol Yes Moulin Rouge is one of the most seriously awesome movies of all time! I've been trying to get it on DVD for years, but I never seem to be able to get enough cash together at the right time. sighs Someday. Oui, je etudiee aussi pour mess examens final en Francais. C'est jeudi et ma grammair est tres terrible! Mais, j'ai comprend beaucuop francais et j'aime l'histoire francais, ainsi j'ai bien. Once again, French cramming is definitely frightening. ;)  
  
**StormShadow21**- Thanks for the positive review! Naw, Spot is not the lover of Roxanne (as you can probably see by now), mostly because I love him too much to think of him with other girls. If I ever actually get a love life of my own that might change, but for now, he's solely mine in all my writing.  
  
**Sapphy**- Your Teddy Grahams are either honey or cinnamon . I LOVE le Tango de Roxanne. The first time I saw the movie, that scene more than any other in that fabulous movie left me absolutely breathless. So naturally now I wanna write a fanfic based on it ;) Well I guess now you know who the stranger is, and when you find out what happened to him as a result of Roxanne, you'll know just why he takes it so personally. big hug You're officially my number one reviewer since you've been the first to review both my stories. I love you! 


	3. The Rooftop Night

After a whole summer of silence (Europe is gorgeous and Governor's School is the best month I ever spent), and an infuriating case of writer's block, I finally sat down and outlined the story instead of paying attention in my Government class. The result is that now I know where the heck this story is going and the block is gone, so I hope you enjoy 'cause I missed a fiery debate about the Bush administration to make sure y'all had something to read...

Disney owns the Newsies, TCF owns Moulin Rouge, Sapphy appears in cameos courtesy of herself. And now...The Show must Go On!

Jack was a skilled speaker; he had an uncanny gift for knowing exactly what to say and how to say it. So it made absolutely no sense that he had been dancing in silence for almost an hour. It was not that he wanted to spend the next five hours merely staring at Roxanne, but every time he tried to formulate a conversation, he would take one look at her and coherent human speech fled his brain, especially when he caught a whiff of the jasmine scent hovering seductively around those gleaming dark curls. Roxanne herself was perfectly nice about it, but Jack could see boredom glazing those dark eyes beneath her pasted on smile.

_I gotta do something_ he thought rapidly, _we're both gonna scream if this keeps up, I gotta say something, God she smells good! No! I gotta..._

"Do you wanna go up to the roof?" Roxanne's dulcet voice shattered his mental train wreck.

Jack cleared his throat, caught off guard, "Excuse me?"

Her smile widened and his pulse quickened, "Its quieter up there, we might actually be able to talk." She paused, "Unless of course you like it better down here..."

"No!" Jack interjected quickly, "No, the roof sounds...good." He smiled lamely, still unable to string his words together and waited for Roxanne to lead on.

She raised one of her beautifully curved eyebrows in a coy manner, "Aren't you going to be a gentleman and offer me your arm?"

Jack's face glowed crimson, "Oh, God, yeah, I'm real sorry, its just..."

She laughed, a pretty sweet sound, "Don't worry yourself Jack, it makes you far too adorable. If your not careful I might have some trouble letting you go in the morning."

Still laughing, she looped her arm through his and led him up the sweeping staircase. Up they climbed, past the rollicking balconies full to the brim with gentlemen and the dancers. Gradually the noise fell away as the stairway narrowed and they passed the floor devoted to offices. Finally, Roxanne reached out a hand into the impenetrable darkness and pushed on a latch.

The door swung open to reveal an expansive slate roof not unlike a million other roofs Jack had been on in his life, except this time there was a difference. A very big difference.

Roxanne hauled herself up on the roof ledge and hiked her skirt up far over her knee; a packet of cigarettes was secured under her garter. Pulling one from the pack, she offered it to Jack, "Smoke?"

"Sure, thanks," gratefully he took it from her outstretched fingers, and paused for her to light it. He waited until she was settled with her own before he eased down on a barrel opposite her.

"So," she finally said, a stream of smoke uncurling from her sensuously parted red lips, "They call you Cowboy. Is there a cute story that goes with that?" humor played in her fiery eyes, and suddenly, Jack felt his throat unstuck just the slightest bit.

He ducked his head, grinning, the barest hint of a blush tinting his cheeks "It's cause I'm gonna be one some day."

She smiled, "Oh?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna catch a train outta this place, head west," he flicked ash off the end of his cigarette thoughtfully, "Start fresh."

"What about your life here? Being a Newsie and all that. You know I've heard of you before, Jack Kelly," His head sprang up, drawing another beautiful laugh from her, "Yes, back during the strike. I read about you in the paper, you did some amazing things, you and your boys."

He smiled, shaking his head, "They was great times, but I'm gonna be too old for the business in a year. I gotta be thinking about my future."

"Well you could always become an activist," her eyes danced as she inhaled on her cigarette, "Something you've already got plenty of experience in."

Jack shook his head again, "Nah, I might hang around here for a bit, but Santa Fe's where I want to be." He looked up at the glittering stars as the thrill of an old dream trilled in his blood, "I don't care if it takes a million years. I'm gonna make it there one day."

Roxanne arched her back, luxuriously stretching her spine, "So what do your parents think about this dream of yours?"

It was as if a candle had been extinguished. All the fire and idealism faded from Jack's eyes, his shoulders curved in ever so slightly, his voice adopted a sullen edge, "They don't got anything to say about it; I haven't seen 'em in something like ten years."

Silence settled in as if to puncture the statement. Jack carefully avoided Roxanne's eyes as he placed the cigarette against his lips once more, inhaling the calming vapors. After what seemed like an eternity her voice, soft and concerned broke the screaming stillness, "Where are they?" Jack finally looked up, "Don't tell me if you don't want to."

He ran his long fingers through his hair clumsily, "No," he said huskily, "No, I don't mind. My mom died when I was nine, her and my baby brother. Dad didn't take it so good, he used to get real depressed and one night he was out drinking, got in a fight and killed the other guy." Jack paused to crush the remains of his cigarette on the gray concrete. His eyes burned as he watched the orange ash go cold, "They took him off the next day and I haven't seen him since then...guess he went to jail." Once more then echoing silence fell between the pair as Jack studied his shoelaces with vigor and Roxanne trained her eyes on his face, "God, listen to me," his voice was suddenly...forcibly, much lighter, "I'm going on and on about me, you're probably bored to death. So, what about you? Are you're folks around?"

For a moment her beautiful face was as hard and cold as carved marble, "No," she smiled wryly, "My parents are not around."

Jack was smart enough to realize the finality in her tone. Swiftly, he cast about his mind for a new conversation, "You're a really good performer." He said hurriedly, "Where'd you learn all that stuff?"

Her smile sweetened, "That's very nice of you to say. I learned my techniques in Paris as a child."

Jack's interest sparked, "Paris! Are you French?"

"Half," She replied looking out over the rooftops, "I lived there until I was twelve."

He leaned forward eagerly, "What was it like to live in Paris?"

For a moment, Roxanne's cool physique melted away and she closed her eyes, savoring the sugar that was her memory, "It was perfect, "she whispered silkily, "The sun shines almost every day and makes everything rosy. From my window I could see the Tulleries with the riot of flower gardens everywhere. The scent of them used to drift into my bedroom at night, mixed with the music from the corner café." A contented sigh escaped her rouged lips as though she could almost feel what she described, "I could have stayed there forever."

He was so enraptured in her speech that Jack did not fully think through his next question, "So why did you?"

Immediately Roxanne's eyes snapped open again, the sleek mask of perfection slid over her exposed facade and her smile turned patronizing, "It doesn't really matter," she said a little too lightly, "I'm here, sharing a lovely evening with you." She flashed her eyes flirtatiously, "Surely you don't regret _that_."

Jack was struggling to say that of course he didn't when a Sparrow's song erupted from its chimney pot nest. He jumped, startled and was suddenly aware that the inky sky had already lightened to pre-dawn grayness. Roxanne Slid off of her perch as easily as silk over marble, still smiling she glanced over the rail, "You're friends are waiting downstairs," she told him, "You'd better go give them all the juicy details." Rolling her eyes, inviting him to share in the joke, she looped her arm through his and led him back downstairs.

"I can't believe its morning!" Jack told her, "It didn't feel like we were up there for three hours."

They had reached the landing and Roxanne released his arm, "Well, Jack Kelly, you're a very interesting client; I'm not surprised at all." She turned to ascend the stairs to some unknown part of the building, "I hope you make it to Santa Fe someday."

"Wait!" Jack called somewhat desperately, Roxanne turned back to face him eyebrow raised, "Can I...can I come see you again, sometime, maybe?" He fumbled over the words.

A slow smile spread on her perfect mouth, "We'll see if the price is right."

"You know I don't earn much money."

"I didn't say money." She said with an ironic sort of grin, "I'll see you around Mr. Kelly." And with that she disappeared into the darkness of the stairwell.

Jack stumbled onto the street feeling as though he was still within a thick, jasmine scented fog. Racetrack was the first to greet him, "Jacky-boy! The luckiest man alive, be honest, what was she like?"

Jack shook his head as if to clear it while his other friends flocked over, "Look at this," Spot crowed, "He's still in shock, she must really live up to the rumors!"

Something snapped and suddenly Jack seemed to see everything in clearer focus. Smiling easily he clapped Race on the back, "Yeah I had fun. How bout' you boys?"

Grinning, Race stuck a cigar between his teeth and hunted for a match, "Today I am a man Jack, today I am a man."

"And why would that be?" a female voice cut through the early morning air like a razor through lace, "I thought it was 'just dancing!'" From the steps of the adjacent building Sapphy stormed over the pavement, blue eyes scorching the boys where they stood, "'What Sapphy don't know' huh bud...but I do know, pal, I _always_ know."

Race gaped like a beached fish, "How did you...were you...how..."

"Let's just say I know a little bird with connections." She shot off each word with the force of venomous darts, instinctively, the boys all fell back a step.

"Bird?" Mush cocked his head in confusion.

"Tweet, tweet, tweet," Ireland appeared at his elbow. Everyone but the fuming Sapphy jumped in surprise.

"Ireland!" Spot exclaimed

She kissed him lightly on the cheek, "You think you're the only with connections, Brooklyn?" The boys stared at her dumbly, "One of the waiters is an old friend of mine."

"That's my girl!" Spot hugged her to him with a laugh, "He told you I was good right?"

"Very good"

Race groaned, "Sapphy, if I tell you I was drunk will it make any difference?"

She gave him a blistering look, "No."

The sun was breaking on the horizon by now, and the police officer on the corner was giving them all a shifty look. Together, she group began to move down the street back towards the lodge. Race trailed after Sapphy like a kicked puppy, Spot and Ireland, arms around each other chattered away with Blink and Mush. But Jack paused for a moment, looking back up at the roof, for just a second he thought he saw movement among the shadows but when he looked again whatever...whoever it was, had disappeared.

Once again, a thousand apologies for the long dry spell. Like I said, updates should be more frequent now. Not very many reviewers last time, so do me a favor, if you love me, tell your friends, get them to read, get them to review, it'll motivate me to keep producing more quality entertainment for your reading pleasure! And now, on to the shout-outs...

**NaughteeLady**- Thank you so much for the review! I'm so glad you liked it; approval makes me feel all fuzzy inside. Silly girl, the boys can't NOT get in trouble, then we wouldn't have a good story! Thanks again!

**Sapphy**- Well Sapphy, though I am not widely loved, I've got you...which is why I made you Race's girl! Darlin' I couldn't give him to anyone else! It wouldn't be right...like chocolate pickles, Race just don't work with any other girl. You know I love you.

Yes the Tonys were superb, and of course I got to school the next day babbling about them and all the idiots are like, "huh?" I think I'm gonna get to see Wicked when I go to NYC to look at college. I'm quite excited about that.

Hey, people like you on FFN, could you help me boost my readership? I want all the writers I admire to see what I can do...which hopefully is a lot. I'd really appreciate it. big hug Love ya babe!


	4. A Little Fun

Look at me! I'm making consecutive updates! Disney Newsies TWC Moulin Rouge Sapphy Sapphy...ya'll know the deal, so lets cut the legal crap and get to the goods!

Nearly a week had elapsed since Jack first met Roxanne. His life continued on ordinarily enough on the surface as he worked by day and spent time with his friends by night. But each day he took what was left over of his earnings after paying board and food and put the spare coins in an empty cigar tin on his bedside. He was determined to save enough money to buy a gift that would entice the fiery dancer to his side. Night after night Jack lay awake thinking of her long after the others had slipped from consciousness. Her ringing laugh laced through his mind, those eyes, eyes like liquid onyx smoldered in the darkness of his brain, a ghost of jasmine seemed ever just beyond his reach. If it took him six months Jack would see Roxanne again.

It was a typical quiet evening at the lodge just before sunset. The room was full of boys lounging across bunks, sitting on the windowsills; the chattering filled the room like the bubbling of a stream. Spot Conlon was there as usual, sitting with Ireland on her bunk, her legs slung over his knees. Despite their cozy posture, the two were engaged in a raging match of gin. Sapphy leaned over the edge of the upper bunk watching, making the occasional remark and giggling as all the blood rushed to her face.

Meanwhile her estranged boyfriend was the last player in a poker match against Jack. The stakes head gone sky high, with all of Race's earnings from the week in the center of the table. For a moment all other activity in the room stilled as the tension reached an ultimate. From her place on the bunk, Ireland had a perfect view of Jack's hand. She shook her head despairingly, Jack held the winning cards without a doubt, Race was about to lose a whole week's wages. _Serves him right, the dumb _gambler she thought to herself even as she gave him a sympathetic glance. It was highly likely that he was going to be able to eat or pay weekend board now.

Jack flicked his eyes between his cards and Racetrack. The other boys face was completely emotional, but he saw confidence in his eyes. Jack's glance shifted to the pile of money on the table, a considerable sum which consisted of all of his friend's money, wages and track wins, from the week. "I fold." He laid his cards face down on the table without so much as batting an eyelash, "Good game Race."

"You're too kind Cowboy," Race tipped his hat to the other and began to gather his winnings as the conversations picked up again. "Hey Sapphy," he called over, "Look at this! Come out with me, I'll buy you a cookie."

"Why don't you go ask your friend Giselle if _she_ wants a cookie?" Sapphy's voice sounded as though it were being hacked off a block of ice, but her eyes simmered with a deep, bleeding pain.

Race crossed the room in seconds, completely oblivious to the presence of Spot and Ireland on the lower bunk. "Sapphy," he murmured his face close to hers.

"Go. Away." She muttered angrily

"Sapphy, nothing happened that night. It really was 'just dancin.' God, you know I'd never do anything to push you away from me." He stroked her cheek with his fingertips, "You're the best part of me." Leaning closer so his lips were against her ear he whispered, "Non sono degno di uno così bello come voi. Se non lo perdonate allora la mia vita sarà sterile. I vostri occhi sono la luce della mia anima e se non lo lasciate comprarlo un biscotto io saranno deolate."

Her forget-me-not colored eyes met his chocolate ones, stark emotion glittering in them like sunlight on a clear lake. Racetrack eased his lips over hers, kissing her sweetly; long seconds passed before they broke apart. "So are we okay again?" he asked timidly.

"It better be a big cookie." She swung her legs over the bunk and landed on the floor with a resounding thump. Barely pausing, she flung her arms tightly around his neck. "A _really_ big cookie." And with that she headed for the bunkroom door, sighing with relief, Race followed her out.

"That wasn't too bad." Jack commented with a grin as he leaned against the bunk.

"Yeah," Spot nodded, "I definitely gotta remember that trick."

Ireland gave Spot a sideways glance but chose not to comment, instead she turned to Jack, "Hey, Cowboy," she looked up at him, "You could have won that match hands down, why'd you let it go?"

Jack shrugged good naturedly, "Race was gonna be spending the weekend sleeping in the park if I didn't. He needed it more then I did." He cast a wistful glance out the window, "Even though I would've been able to go see Roxanne if I'd got that wad of cash."

"You still hung up on her, Jack!" Ireland raised an eyebrow, "My God, it was one night; you can't be serious about trying to see her again!"

He carefully avoided her gaze, "She said I could come back."

Ireland's expression was incredulous, "She did?"

"Yeah, you know what, as a matter of fact she did, Ireland." His voice edged in hard resentment.

"God, sorry! Don't be so touchy."

Jack ran his fingers back through his hair, "I'm not _touchy_, I'm just..."

"Pining?" suggested Spot

"Yeah, that's it. I'm pining."

"Then why don't you just go see her?" Ireland inquired

"I can't just _go_!" Jack exclaimed, "You don't go see a girl like that empty handed." He sighed pensively, "What do you give to a girl like Roxanne?"

Boots had been playing marbles on the floor nearby, now the younger boy looked up, "You give her something shiny," he advised, "I gave this girl Mimi a marble and now she never goes _away_."

Spot grinned, "My advice," he said casually, "Keep it simple, most girls like it better that way." Jack looked skeptical, "Look," Spot continued, "You wanna stand out to her right?" his friend nodded, "So be different. She's got a million guys bringin' her flashy gifts, so go the other way. Bring her flowers or something little."

Jack mulled this over for a moment. Suddenly, he reached down and hauled Ireland off the bed, "Come on."

"Where are we going exactly?"

"To buy flowers for Roxanne." He sounded as though it should have been obvious to her.

"So why do I need to come?"

"You're a girl, Roxanne's a girl. You'll know what she'll like."

Ireland rolled her eyes, sighing heavily, "Fine."

Jack caught the corner flower seller just before he closed up for the night. He barely noticed the murderous glance that the man behind the stall gave him before he began searching the pots in earnest.

"What kind of flowers do you think she'd like?" his gaze swept across the riot of shades and varieties.

"I don't know Jack, I never met her." Ireland leaned against the streetlamp watching her friend with a hint of a smile.

"Well what do you like?" He cast the eager glance of a puppy at her and she couldn't resist grinning.

"I like Roses personally."

His eyes lit up, "Roses! You're completely right, they're perfect for her.!"

After a moment's deliberation, Jack had selected a single pink rose. Ireland stood beside him as he paid the grumpy owner.

"Look, Jacky-boy," she began carefully, "I'm sorry I was on your case earlier,"

"S'okay." He replied, draping an arm over her shoulders.

"It's just that we've been friends for a really long time, and I worry about you." They turned to leave the stand together, "And because I worry about you, I just want you to be really careful dealing with Roxanne."

Jack stopped short, "What are you talking about?"

She spoke very gently choosing each word with the utmost care, "Look Jack, she may be beautiful and smart and interesting. She may genuinely like you, but just remember who she is. At the end of the day all she wants from a man is his money." She paused to let that sink in, "I just don't want you getting hurt."

He shook his head, grinning a bit, "You're wrong about her Ireland. There's so much more to her than that." He kissed her cheek in a brotherly fashion, "Don't worry about me. I can handle myself when it comes to girls."

He turned from her and walked briskly in the direction of Verte Violette. Ireland watched him go, an unknown nervousness climbing up and down her spine with icy fingers, "I know you can handle the girls Jack," she whispered after his retreating form, "I just don't know how you do with tigers."

It was a rare quiet night at the infamous brothel. Every now and then the place closed for a night just to prove that they could. Jack was lucky to have caught it on such a night.

Rather then try to get in the heavily attended main door, he circled to the back where the stage entrances were. With no performance going on there was no one but a sleeping elderly gentleman to watch those doors. Jack slipped easily through the closest one and disappeared into the shadows of the wings.

Rehearsal was taking place on the main stage. Roxanne, clad in nothing but her corset and shift was practicing with the corps. Jack stopped, forgetting to hide himself in the shadows, fixated on her moving form. She danced across the stage as lightly as a butterfly, her glossy black curls coming unbound and fluttering in her wake. She her torso rippled snakelike as she twined her arms about that lithe waist, arching her back just so. Jack fought to breath.

Suddenly, the music stopped abruptly, and he became aware of a small, wiry man with salt and pepper hair yelling at him, "What do you think you're doing here?" the man stormed over to Jack, "We're closed tonight, your not allowed to be here. Security!" A pair of beefy thug-types clambered onto the stage, skulking towards the young man. Jack's eyes widened in alarm

Roxanne stepped in their path abruptly, "It's alright Albert." She said to the short man, her eyes never leaving Jack's, "I asked him here."

Albert glowered, "Fine then, but next time tell me if you've got guests." He spun on his heel and returned to rehearsal; Roxanne made her way over to Jack, a wry smile on her lovely mouth.

He released a sigh of relief, "Thank you." He whispered sincerely

She folded her arms across her chest, "So we meet again, Jack Kelly." Her eyes sparkled, "I can't say I'm disappointed." He glance flickered to the rose he held.

"Oh!" he mentally kicked himself for forgetting, "This is for you." He shrugged, "It's not much but..."

"Its beautiful," she interjected with a laugh of pleasure, "And so thoughtful." Jack felt his cheeks grow warm as he basked in the warmth of her approval. "I truly appreciate it," she continued, "But I know you didn't come all the way over on a Saturday night to deliver a flower." She smiled, waiting for him to explain.

Jack suddenly felt very nervous, "I just thought, if you want to, that maybe we, I mean you and I, we could, um, we could go for a walk or somethin'." He scuffed his foot along the floor avoiding her eyes.

Roxanne grinned silently, letting him dangle for a moment that seemed an eternity. Finally she spoke, "That sounds lovely. Just let me get dressed, you can walk me home."

Jack felt dizzy with relief as Roxanne made for the dressing rooms. _Ireland's wrong_ he thought gleefully, _she's different from the others. _

Moments later, she reappeared dressed in a flattering slate gray suit. This time, Jack remembered to offer her his arm, "So he can be taught," Roxanne commented teasingly as they left.

They walked along for a few moments in silence. It was Roxanne who broke it in the end, "So why did you decide to come and see me again Mr. Kelly?"

Jack smiled, "To be honest I couldn't stop thinking about last week." He confided, "You're pretty unforgettable."

She snorted slightly, "I've heard as much from dozens of men," she looked straight at Jack, "But I did not provide with a full service, Jack, so what is it that you like so much in me?"

He struggled to verbalize for a moment, completely caught unawares by the starkness of her inquiry, "Well, you're beautiful," he thought he saw a hint of disdain pass over her face and hurried on, "But you're a lot more too. You're smart, and you've been places...I guess I think you're interesting."

Her smile was back now, "I'm 'interesting'" she nodded in approval, "I don't think I've ever been told that before. I think you and I will get along fine, my young Cowboy. You are very different, that intrigues me." Jack felt as though something warm and fizzy were bubbling inside his chest. "This is my house." Roxanne informed him as they drew level with a stately townhouse.

Jack was thoroughly impressed, "You live here?"

"Me and several other dancers from Violette." She turned to face him, "Thank you for escorting me."

"Any time," Jack assured her hastily, "I'm always available."

She touched his cheek with a grin, "You'd better be," she informed him, "I will be extremely put out if you don't come back."

He felt a silly, ecstatic grin stretch over his face, but did not care. Leaning down, Jack meant to kiss her goodnight, "Not so fast," she took a step away from him, "I don't think we've been courting long enough for me to allow that." She feigned a sigh, "I suppose you'll just have to come see me tomorrow." Her eyes danced, "Good night, Mr. Kelly."

With that, Roxanne sauntered up the steps and inside, leaving Jack watching her rapturously, inhaling the hint of Jasmine lingering in her wake.

One of her housemates had been watching from the front window, "And who was _that_?"

"His name is Jack Kelly, he's a newsboy. I've decided to let him come and see me."

Her friend's eyebrows arced up, "You don't actually like him that way do you Rox?"

She rolled her eyes, "Of course not." Roxanne lifted the edge of the lace curtain to watch Jack finally walk away, "But he is terribly amusing."

"Don't play with people's emotions, Roxanne," he friend admonished, "It can get very messy."

Roxanne grinned, "Oh don't worry so much. It's only a little fun."

WAHOO! I made an update within two days! I. Am. Awesome!!!!! Well my loves, I hope you are all proud of me, go out and tell your friends and I'll see you here next time, I'm off to eat macaroni and watch Singing in the Rain, reviews would be much appreciated! ;)

**newsiemoseph**- You love me that much! I'm so happy to hear that!!!! I'm really glad you're enjoying the story. Tango de Roxanne if my favorite part of Moulin Rouge and when I started writing the cross-over I wondered how people would feel. But the response had been 100 positive, so I take it I'm doing okay. I really shoot to be original. Thank you so much.

**LadyRach**- I'm glad you're enjoying it so much. And hey, reviewing multiple times is HIGHLY encouraged (especially given the low stock of my readership). I'm very excited that I got another fan of the story. Yeah, the Tonys were totally amazing; I can't wait till the day when I perform in them! ;) Thanks for the review love.

**love97**- Thank you! I'm so glad that you're enjoying it, really you can't get much better than Moulin Rouge and Newsies, but I worked very hard to make sure that my story was different from both movies. Thank for the compliments.

**My Dog Ate My Penname**- Thank a million darlin'! Yes, Roxanne and Jack definitely have something developing, and it's going to be vedde vedde interesting, so I hope you keep reading. I have every intention of seeing this story through to the end, especially since now I have an outline for it so I know what the heck I'm doing! Thanks for the review.

**Sapphy**- Now Sapphy, you know, and I know, that if bad stuff doesn't happen my story will die of dullness. Who in the world want to read about a happy couple? I mean seriously, come on. Yeah, I thought you'd love being in here, call it a gift for faithful readership. And don't worry about Race, he (as you have probably already read) was just being a stupid guy and bluffing shamelessly. Betcha wanna know what he said in Italian huh? ;) Okay, so here's the tough translation: I'm am not worthy of one so beautiful as you. If you do not forgive me my life will be barren. Your eyes are the light of my soul, please allow me to buy you a cookie or I will be desolate. Isn't that just sweet. I sighed with longing when I wrote it! We so need to go to NY together! That would be ultimate! ;)


	5. Draw the Noose Tighter

HeeHeeHee! I'm on a Roxanne overload and I...can't...stop! Wahoo! What a rush. I seriously am on the biggest writing kick right now, probably as a result of not having worked on the story since early summer. Plus, the story is really gonna get good here, so Disney owns the Newsies, TCF Own Moulin Rouge and any characters that did not spring from my mind belong to their respective owners...

It was three in the morning on a Wednesday in late October. A shadowed figure crept catlike up the darkened streets of Manhattan where the streetlamps had long since guttered out. The Newsboy lodging house loomed into view, wrapped in a blanket of slumber. The hard-working occupants of the structure had long since drifted into the waters of blissful dreams, happy to release from the drudgery of the day.

The figure climbed nimbly and silently up the iron ladder of the fire escape to the roof, taking extra care as he passed by the windows of the bunkroom. In a trice he had reached the top and swung his legs over the ledge easily. Smiling at the stealth of his ascent, he turned to go inside...

...and came face to face with a girl pale as marble and just as un-moveable. "Jesus Christ Ireland!" He fell back against the ledge with a gasp, hand pressed to his thudding heart.

"Jack, are you aware that we have to be awake for work in two and a half hours?" Ireland's face was emotionless and uncompromising.

Jack had the sense of a little boy who had been very naughty. He tried to shake the feeling with a careless laugh, "Yeah, so why are you up?"

"I was in the bathroom and saw you go past the window." Her eyes narrowed, "You were out seeing Roxanne again weren't you?"

"So what if I was?"

"Jack!"

"She was openin' a new act tonight," he said defensively, "She was nervous!"

"So send a card next time!" Ireland put her hand on his shoulder, "Jack, look at you, you've got big purple bags under your eyes, your white as a sheet. I found you asleep standing up the other day!"

He shook her off irritably, "So what? Everyone gets tired."

Ireland stared at him incredulously, "When we get tired it's not because we've been out all night every night. Look Jack, I know you wanna be there for Roxanne, but..."

"No, you don't know," he interrupted icily, "'Cause if you _did_ know you wouldn't be buggin' me all the time."

"Jack, it's not healthy!"

"Just get out of my face!" he shouted. Immediately Jack regretted it. Ireland fell back a step, eyes wide with hurt and shock. "I'm...I'm sorry," he muttered, "Just...I just...I gotta go to bed."

Jack tumbled onto his bunk, still fully clothed, eyes itching with fatigue as he plunged into dreamless sleep. When he woke up, Ireland's bed was already made and it wasn't until later that he realized he had never heard her come back to bed.

Headlines were good that day because of a police raid at the home of a government official. By lunchtime most of the Manhattan Newsies were crowded into Tibby's and chattering over a hearty lunch.

Jack arrived shortly past noon looking very pleased with himself; Ireland was sitting with Mush at a table in the back.

"Hey Jack," Mush greeted his friend, "Sell out?"

Jack grinned as he pulled out a chair, "Is water wet? I'd have to be dumber then a Delancey not to." He tried to keep his face casual as smiled at Ireland, "Hi Ireland."

She smiled back, her own warm, welcoming smile...which on this occasion did not reach all the way to her eyes, "Hi Jack." Her tone was friendly, but the note of restraint in her voice escaped no one. Mush looked uncomfortably between the two.

"Look Ireland," Jack began timidly.

"Forget it," she cut in forgivingly, "It never happened okay."

He smiled, relieved, "Thanks." The tension at the table released like an opened pressure valve. Suddenly the room seemed brighter. The waiter with his tidy white notepad stopped at the table to take Jack's order, "Can I just get some soda and a pickle, Marty?" The waiter nodded and moved back towards the kitchen, but Jack's three companions stared at him. "I'm just not that hungry, that's all."

Mush looked doubtful, but tactfully changed the subject; however Ireland stared determinedly at her plate. She let her fingers dance over the rim of her water glass worryingly, but to her credit her face remained totally expressionless.

"Hey," Mush interjected brightly, "Medda's openin' a new act tonight, she promised us seats in the box. You're coming right."

Jack's food arrived and he sipped his soda uneasily as he answered, "No...no I don't think I can."

Ireland dropped her fork with a resounding clang, Mush's eyes widened in shock, "No?"

"It's just that I got plans..."

"With Roxanne," Ireland finished for him acidly, "Yes we know." She sighed disbelievingly, "Medda's been like family to you and now you're going to skip out on her opening because of some girl you met one month ago who won't even let you kiss her!"

Jack leaned back, stricken and Ireland knew she'd hit a nerve. Truthfully she had only been guessing about the last part but now everything about Jack's rigid posture and stony expression told her she was right. "Jack..."

"I'm going," he shoved back from the table making the silverware jump, "I promised I'd come at two."

Ireland and Mush watched him go, both speechless and both with a sinking feeling of dread.

The doormen at Violette knew Jack well by now and let him in the stage door with a smile of greeting. Rehearsal was happening onstage, but Roxanne was not there at all. The Stage Manager informed him that she was still with a client, who had only just woken up. "I think he should be leaving though," he assured Jack, "After all, his wife will be wondering after him soon."

As Jack climbed the stairs to the rooms set aside for top-paying customers a nagging little feeling buzzed in his mind like a gnat. _Look at all she does for her job!_ It whispered shrilly, _and she won't so much as let you kiss her hand_. He shook his head angrily, there had to be a reason.

Roxanne's client was leaving just as Jack reached her dressing room. He could hear the sound of a bath being drawn for her from the next room while she brushed out her luxurious black curls. She noticed his reflection in her mirror immediately.

"Jack," she rose from the stool with a tired smile, "You're early."

"Yeah," he shrugged, "I sold out quick."

"I like it," she informed him "Only think of how often we'd see each other if you got off early every day!" her eyes danced teasingly. "Will you wait a few minutes before we talk, you wouldn't believe how badly I want a bath!"

Jack nodded with a smile as she let trailed her fingers across his collar on the way out. He made himself comfortable on her jade green velvet sofa and waited patiently. Twenty minutes later the door opened, and she emerged gowned in a plain blue dress, the scent of jasmine hovering around her like a halo. She was gorgeous.

"Why won't you let me kiss you?" the words were out before Jack could even think about them.

Roxanne stared at him for a moment and he felt his face go very warm. Suddenly she laughed, "What?"

No sense in backing away now, "Come on Roxanne, look at what you do for a living?" The smile began to fade from her face and her eyebrow arched up dangerously, Jack mentally slammed his head against a wall, "I mean, that you'll let all kinds of guys touch you, but...but I'm _your_ guy. Why can't I even kiss you?"

To his surprise she laughed again and crossed the room to where he sat, "Jack, I thought you understood." He looked thoroughly confused, "You of all people should know that this is just business." She ran her fingers through his hair, and his heart palpitated madly, "If I didn't care for you I'd have let you kiss me ages ago!"

Now he felt more lost than ever, "Come again?"

Roxanne sighed, "I take it slow _because_ I care. That's what makes you different than anyone I work for." She traced the curve of his cheekbone, "Well, that and your good looks."

Finally Jack smiled, "I knew they weren't right about you." He said with relief.

Roxanne cocked an eyebrow, "Who?"

"Ireland, some of the boys as the lodge. They're all tellin' me to be careful around you."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, "Well don't listen," She said firmly, "They don't understand anything about us."

Her onyx eyes were sparkling with that inner flame he loved, "I know," he said with a nod, unable to look away, "No body else is as lucky."

For an instant Roxanne was lost in the impassioned depths of Jack's eyes, the intensity of his gaze. After a moment of intoxicating suspense, she gently tilted his head back and eased her lips against his. Jack could not move, could not think, could not breath. The world was spinning furiously away from him and he didn't care. Somewhere, cities flooded, houses burned, men lay bleeding in the street, but nothing mattered. Nothing but this girl and this moment.

Finally Roxanne leaned back, parting their connection. Jack was breathing hard, but she only smiled her dazzling smile, "Go down to the kitchen and get a bottle of champagne."

He left immediately, desperate to pull himself together. By the time he returned with the drink he was calmer. Roxanne offered him a cigarette and for the next two hours they sat on her dressing room balcony, smoking and passing the bottle back and forth. When the call came for her to dress for the show Jack finally got to his feet stretching.

"I guess that means I better get to the gallery before the crew takes all the good spots." He tossed her a rose from the vase on her vanity, "I'd tell you good luck if you needed it."

He turned to leave and her voice stopped him, "Jack," he turned back to her, "Aren't you forgetting to kiss me goodbye?" He stared astonished for a moment, a smile played at the corner of her perfect mouth. "Well?"

Putting on his most mockingly serious face, Jack crossed the room to her. He molded his hand to the small of her slender back, pulled her close against him, and for the first time, Jack Kelly gave a kiss to Roxanne. A sweet, beautiful kiss with a sharply passionate edge. When he finally left they were both smiling.

As the door closed, Roxanne waited until the sound of his footsteps had faded away and then she collapsed on her sofa and laughed until she was nearly sick.

Jack spent the night up in the gallery in a cloud of rapture. He was not even sure he saw the show, there was nothing to him but Roxanne. The glowing, perfect firestorm of a girl. The crown jewel...his jewel. Even after she got off stage he waited until he saw her go upstairs with a client before he left. It was nearly two in the morning, his eyes were raw with sleeplessness and he did not care. A foolish grin lit his face as he walked home. _Those rich guys can have her,_ he thought gleefully_ they can pay all they want to have her, 'cause in the morning she's _my_ girl. She kisses me not them._

Jack lay awake until nearly daybreak thinking of her and one thing kept floating through his mind, "_Only think of how often we'd see each other if you got off early every day!"_ She'd said it teasingly, but what if he could manage it? He _would_ manage it. Jack knew for certain his friends were wrong about her and now nothing would keep him from her.

When the bunkroom came alive the next morning, Jack's bed was already made. It was almost discomforting to not have his familiar presence among them as the day began. Conversation was sparse, only Sapphy's shouted query to the whereabouts of one of her three rings caused any dialogue in the eerily quiet room. As the throng of Manhattan Newsies pushed through the circulation gate he was on his way out, a startlingly thin stack of papers under his arm.

"Hey Jack!" Race hailed him from across the street, the taller boy glanced up, startled out of a dream world, "Watcha got there, like thirty papes?"

Jack shrugged passively, "Yeah, so?"

"Nothin', it's just that you been sellin' a hundred a day since you were twelve. Your arms getting' tired ol' man?"

"No, I just don't got time to sell a hundred." Jack disappeared around the corner before anyone could say another word.

Ireland sighed, rubbing her temples against the monstrous headache she could feel approaching. However it hit her full force a moment later as shouts erupted around the same corner.

"You _asshole_!" Sapphy's furious shriek echoed on the bare streets. No one even had time to exchange a glance before they all took off running in the direction of the shout. By the lamp post they found a very uncomfortable Jack cornered by Race who was rapidly swearing in Italian, and Sapphy who was still yelling.

"Hey!" Ireland shouted over the racket, everyone looked at her, startled into silence "What the hell is going on?"

Sapphy was so angry that her words tumbled over each other, but she finally managed coherent sentence, "He _stole_ my ring," she fumed, "The one I couldn't find this morning. When he took his hand out of his pocket to wave it fell out."

"Bastard." Race muttered under his breath.

Everyone stared at Jack, lost for words. The silence seemed to grow louder and louder until a freight train would not have drained out that avalanche of soundlessness. Ireland finally spoke, "Jack, why..."

"I gotta go." He turned and ran as fast as he could go, ignoring the cries of his friends. His shoes slapped the pavement and his papers fell to the ground, forgotten. He could not explain what he had done, he knew they wouldn't understand. They didn't understand anything.

Somehow, he found himself at the stately townhouse Roxanne shared with her friends. The housekeeper, a plump, stern woman with silvery hair informed him that she had already left but would return by eight, "It's her off night." The woman explained.

Jack sat down to wait. Hour upon hour passed as her remained upon the cold, hard front steps. The shadows changed, then began to fade, his stomach growled, and still he did not move. The stars had already appeared when a handsome cab dropped off Roxanne.

She paid the driver and then turned and stopped short in surprise, "Jack! How long have you been waiting."

He struggled to his feet, numbness prickling up and down the backs of his legs, "Since this morning." His voice was rough with the silence he'd kept all day.

Roxanne's eyes widened just slightly, "Why?" Simple, straightforward...he could not lie to her and the story spilled out like water from a shattered dam.

"It's just, I wanted to give you something nice and I knew I was never gonna have the money. Well my friend Sapphy has a bunch of rings she wears, so I thought she wasn't gonna miss one and I took it. But it fell out of my pocket when I saw her today and she exploded and now," he sighed, "Now everyone's mad at me."

He thought he saw a smile flirt across Roxanne's lips, but it must have been a fleeting shadow. As she stepped forward her expression was calm and appraising, "You did that just to impress me?"

Jack looked down, embarrassed beyond all reckoning, "I guess."

She was quiet for several seconds and then suddenly, "I think you'd better come upstairs with me Jack."

His head came up, "What?"

She took his hand in hers, "I want you to spend the night."

It was a night beyond Jack's greatest imaginings. She was so perfect, so beautiful in every way. When at last they lay in each others arms sleeping soundly, his was the sleep of utter contentment and happiness.

Somewhere outside, a workman passed on his way home from the late shift. He whistled as he walked, old Irish pub songs learned as a boy. Tonight the song he passed along to was one with a jig melody, an old drinking song called "Draw the Noose Tighter."

I'm actually not sure how I feel about this chapter. I don't love it, but I wanted to get it out there, and I feel good having done so. You know, I feel like the story keeps getting better, so WHY does my readership keep declining?! I am aggravated beyond reason right now...reviews would be much appreciated!

**LadyRach**- Roxanne's a real piece of work. Just wait till you see what's coming! Then you can decide how much you like or dislike the mysterious Miss. Roxanne. Don't listen to your family, what do they know? My family told me I'd never get higher than a C in chemistry and look at me now, I passed last year with...a C...in chemistry. Okay, bad example, but even so, I'm sure you sing great doll. Thanks for the review! ;)

**Sapphy**- (Gently removes club from Sapphy's hand) Darlin' don't go hurting my heroine, I still need her for the rest of the story. Hope you don't mind me taking my inspiration for Jack's...transgression, from your story. It just seemed like a really good way to get everyone pissed at him. And don't worry, I made sure that Race gave you a cookie-sheet sized chocolate chip cookie. I can't wait to hit NYC with you! So who's Joey and who's Chandler? We both kinda have our moments, it could be hard to tell. Love ya babe, thanks for the review! ;)


	6. The Ultimate

Do you know what I hate? I hate when chorus teachers take over drama productions and put in their own little singing stars who are crappy actors! I hate when I get assigned a 575 page book to read in three days. I hate when my Homecoming date's psycho ex-girlfriend decides she's going to tag along with us at the dance. Sorry ya'll, I'm just venting some major frustration right now. Thanks for caring enough to read this far. ::silence:: Yeah, okay, I get it; you're here for the story. ::sighs:: Fine, kick my bleeding heart while you're at it. ;) Kidding, Disney owns Newsies, TCF owns Moulin Rouge, respective characters own themselves...on with the show.

Thanksgiving was an occasion of widespread celebration among the Newsies of The World. It was on that day every that Pulitzer's representatives sent a sumptuous meal for the boys, one that would fill them until they could barely walk. This year's dinner included thick vegetable stew and soft, steaming rolls for dipping, potatoes dripping in melted butter, mouth-watering apple pie and of course the succulent roasted turkey glistening with juices and cooked to delirium inducing perfection.

The scrumptious meal was usually followed by a small party in the downstairs common room. It was a gleeful and raucous affair no doubt, but something lacked and everyone felt it. For the first time in years, Jack was not present for the festivities. He was halfway across the city, chained to Roxanne's side once more and everyone knew it. Ever since the blowup nearly a month prior he had spent increasing amounts of time with her, sleeping over at least once a week, letting his friends drift further and further off.

Everyone but Sapphy had recovered from the ring incident. It was not as though Jack was not welcome among them anymore, but there was an extreme caution in dealing with him nowadays. No one, not even Ireland seemed to know how to respond to their friend. Conversations were brief and strained, shared laughter rang slightly hollow. There was a barrier in his eyes that had never been there before, one that bespoke an entire world with no place in it for his wider life. It scared his friends more than anything else.

It was nearing seven-o-clock when the freezing rain began to fall. However the occupants of the lodge were content as could be and took no more than a passing notice of the weather. Spot had come from Brooklyn for the night and was engaged in a poker match with Race, Sapphy and a new boy named Stripes. Ireland amid a large group laughed whole-heartedly as Mush related the woeful details of a recent blind-date. Over all it was quite a cozy situation and despite the oddity of Jack's absence, everyone was enjoying themselves.

That was, until Jack actually arrived. It was half-past seven when the door opened. Frigid air swept in a wave down the corridor to the common room, raising goose bumps as it passed; Kloopman cried out indignantly as icy rain water spattered the hall floor.

Moments later, Jack entered the room leading by the hand the most stunning young woman in anyone's memory. All the boys stared dumbly; Roxanne lived up to every wild description of her beauty. She turned her simple green dress into the richest garment ever made. Her eyes seemed to capture every spark of light in the room, as if it were drawn to her.

For several seconds no one moved. Everyone, for one reason or another seemed lost for words, whether gazing adoringly at the new creature in their midst as Boots very clearly as doing, or raging in silent fury like Sapphy. Spot shot a glance at Ireland who met his gaze with something like irritated despair. All the laughter was gone from her eyes. Spot immediately felt himself tense.

Roxanne smiled brilliantly, "You're friends are charming, Jack," she announced in her lovely voice, "You'd better introduce me to them while I'm still able to make a good impression."

Sapphy stood abruptly, her face pale and set in anger. Deliberately, so her meaning was not mistaken, she walked towards the door, swerving around Roxanne as she did so. A moment later her shoes made a rhythmic thudding up the stairs. Racetrack looked at Jack then at Roxanne. Shoving his chair back with steely intent, he followed his girlfriend out.

The silence roared for long moment until Spot spoke up, "Hey Jack, we were just dealin' a new game, want in?"

Jack smiled gratefully at his friends, then at Roxanne. Ireland rolled her eyes at his very pointed attempt to seek her approval. Jack, who never cared what anyone thought so long as he felt good about himself, was little more than an eager puppy when he was with that girl.

Roxanne noticed Ireland as a flinty look darkened her fiery eyes. She would have to deal with this girl at some point; this had to be the one who wanted to keep Jack away. For the moment though, Roxanne gave Jack her sweetest smile, "Go play," she laughed throatily, "I want to see my handsome boy win."

Conversation picked up gradually as Jack sat down at the card table. Roxanne bent slowly to rest her elbows on the back of a chair; the rather low cut of her neckline grew tight as her bosom pressed into it. Excited whispering flurried across the room from the watching boys. In disgust, Ireland buried her nose in a well-worn copy of _Macbeth_, ignoring the poker game and the smitten boys around her.

A half hour later, Spot had folded out and a rather familiar scenario was in place. Jack and Stripes faced off and the stakes were higher than ever. Stripes bit his lip looking between Jack and the cards. Finally, he reached into his pocket and laid down his last nickel, "Stripes," Skittery was watching from nearby, "Don't chance it man, that's all the money you got left!"

Jack glanced down at his cards, déjà vu swept over him as he beheld the irony of the situation...he held the winning cards. The scenario mirrored exactly that of the game in which he'd lost to Race. _Poor kid,_ he thought looking at Stripes, _I can't let him lose all his money, he's only been here a week! _Jack was ready to fold when suddenly he caught sight of a flash of silver as the light reflected off Roxanne's bracelet. Her words floated through his head, _I want to see my handsome boy win, I want to see my handsome boy win, win, win _over and over in a melodic refrain. Something within him hardened, Stripes knew starting Newsies didn't earn much. It was his own stupidity for putting all his money in. He didn't deserve to keep it! Jack waited in a sick sort of satisfaction for the moment when the cards were laid out, the moment when he could win for Roxanne. And when it came, he did it mercilessly with triumph in his voice and his eyes upon her.

Stripes' shoulders slumped as Jack collected the winnings. Ireland, who had come out of her book long enough to watch the end of the game stared at her friend in furious disbelief, Roxanne noticed immediately.

"You must be Ireland." She said it nicely enough, but her smile was as false as glass pearls and her eyes burned a challenge. Ireland glared back pasting on her own brittle smile.

"And you're Roxanne. We've heard a lot about you." Unwilling to waste time, Ireland began to read again.

"_Macbeth_," Roxanne commented in the same faux-friendly tone, "That's very ambitious of you."

"I like to read." The other girl didn't look up

"I'm sure you do," Roxanne's smile was patronizing, her voice like honeyed steel, "I you need any help with the bigger words just let me know."

Ireland's eyes slid upwards. Her brain screamed with thundering fury, her eyes blazed icy blue fire, she wanted nothing more than to smack this girl who had been the cause of so much unrest until her perfect face was swollen beyond recognition...but she didn't. She smiled with sincerity at her attacker, "Why thank you, Roxanne, that's awfully nice. Actually vocabulary isn't my problem, but there is something I don't understand in another play," she paused for effect, "There is a joke made In _Romeo and Juliet _about whores, I didn't comprehend it, but then I've never been a whore. Perhaps, as a professional, you could enlighten me?"

The room went deadly quiet. Roxanne stared at Ireland, her face going from pale to red to stony white. "Take. That. Back." She whispered, voice trembling in explosive outrage. "Take it back now."

Ireland stood rapidly, the chair clattering to the floor as she did so, "Or you'll what? Bite my neck and steal my soul? You already did that to Jack so we _know_ it's possible!"

"Shut up!" Roxanne screamed, her nails dug into her palms, creating deep indentations, "Just shut the hell up!"

"Why?" Ireland screamed back, "That's what whores do isn't it? You trade pleasure for cash and steal people's lives!"

"Ireland!" Jack rushed forward, recovered from his initial shock, "Ireland stop it!"

But she had reached a level of brilliant hear hysterics, everything kept bottled up for the past month was spilling all over the floor, spreading and pooling like verbal bile. "No, Jack, she poisoned you! Why can't you see that she's just another whore?"

Something inside Jack shattered, something sane, something stable. So fast that his action was barely seen, he smashed Ireland across the face with the back of his hand. Caught unawares, still deep within her rage, the tall girl careened to the floor holding the brutalized spot. There she lay sprawled and silent...for a full minute the room was frozen.

"Oh, my God," comprehension dawned on Jack's disconnected mind, "Oh, my God," he moved to go to Ireland, but Spot's hostile form came between the two. Never had the Brooklynite looked angrier.

"If it were anybody else Francis..." Ireland's voice sounded hollow and deadened as she spoke from her position on the floor.

He stared at his fallen friend, the friend _he_ had felled, "Francis?" his voice broke on the word, "You've never called me Francis."

She turned very slowly to look at him, her eyes closed off entirely of emotion, sadness heavy upon her features, "Well you're not Jack. I don't know who you are, but you're definitely not Jack." Her eyes flickered to Roxanne, "I think you'd better go now."

Jack glanced around, hostile faces greeted him wherever he looked. Slowly, as if dazed, he turned away. Roxanne was waiting at the doorway, Jack took her hand as he passed, leading her out the way they'd come. They stood outside the front door, waiting for a cab to come by, their breaths making frosty streams as they watched the iced-rain. "You don't need them Jack," Roxanne's voice came softly through the fog of disbelief.

He looked down at her with a pang...she was worth them all, "You're right." He said drawing her to him, "You're always right." And they stood like that until they saw a cab to take them away. Flickering in Roxanne's eyes was an ember of satisfaction, a secretive triumphant smile touched the corners of her mouth. They had reached the ultimate.

Short I know, but I'm emotionally exhausted just writing it! So what think'st thou my friends? Is this compelling stuff or what? Review and I shall make a speedy update!

**My Dog Ate My Penname**- I was wondering what happened to you. Glad to see you're still alive and well...and enjoying my story! Yeah, some points in the last chapter were a bit out there, but I think they add to the overall dramatic effect ::shrugs:: just a lowly author's opinion of course. ;) I'm so glad to have you back, thanks for reviewing!

**LadyRach**- Whew, Calculus...I am filled with respect and admiration. I don't go no higher than algebra. ::grins:: I are math-disabled. Roxanne's tricky, as you can probably tell. She never lets you know just where she's going...::rubs hands slyly:: but all shall be revealed in due course. ::fake sigh:: Guess that means you'll just have to keep reviewing ;) Thanks love.

**newsiesmoseph**- ::blushing:: Thank you! Really, my head is spinning from the compliment, lol I appreciate it; it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. Yeah, Jack's doesn't know which way's up right now but I can't _tell_ you what Roxanne's deal is! Then you won't keep coming back to read about it silly! Thanks for reviewing!

**Sapphy**- ::blocking Roxanne and Jack:: Sapphy! Stop trying to kill my main characters! Yes they're stupid, yes they deserve exorbitant amounts of pain, but I still require them. After I'm done you can turn them into hamburger for all I care ::grumbling:: Jack deserves it!

Jack: Hey, you write it, I just act it out

Shut up. Thanks again fro the plug for my story Sapphy, so far no bites, but here's hoping. Love ya darlin' ttyl ;)


	7. I Would Have Loved You

Trick or Treat!!! Busy, busy, busy lately! Homecoming last week, foreign exchange student living in the house, dance schedule stacking up nearly as high as my homework...and yet I find strength to stay up late and indulge in Turner Classic Movies' tribute to musicals every Tuesday and Wednesday. But what am I babbling about, I'm obviously not so tired I can't write this chapter for you fine people, so Disney owns Newsies, TCF own Moulin Rouge and all individuals outside of those two groups own themselves. Got it? Good. On we go...

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The abrasive clanging of a fire bell jolted Jack from a deep sleep. Groaning softly he peeled back an eyelid to see dark shapes rousing from their beds in the half-light of November grayness. Gingerly, he stuck his nose out from under his blanket into the frigid dawn air and sighed. With aching slowness, he hauled himself up, shivering and miserable.

Two weeks ago he had moved into the Gray Court Lodging House, an old fire house bought out by the world and converted into a lodging facility for their newsboys. The place was large and dank and retained cold in the way that metal retains fire. The constant chill easing off the bare brick walls and rough floors was enough to cripple a bear with cold let alone the slight newsboys who inhabited it.

Jack broke a skimming of ice in the wash basin and hesitated to splash it on his face. For a brief moment he thought longingly of his old home. The home where he'd had a warm room and real friends. _They're not my friends_ he reminded him self briskly. He refused to speak to his old group and they in turn avoided conversing with him. Meanwhile he was never at his new home long enough to become acquainted with those boys. His days were bleak and lonely...only his visits to see Roxanne could shake his low mood. Jack scowled to himself; he hadn't been able to see her all week.

Snow was falling thickly over the city that morning. Jack glowered sulkily at the world as he trudged out along his route. Headlines were poor, it was cold out, he hadn't seen Roxanne and the most he had to look forward to was fighting for a space before the stove in the bunkroom that night. On top of it all, Oscar Delancey had been talking incessantly about his recent raise. In his grumpy state, Jack didn't notice Mush until he had plowed right into him.

"Jack!" the other boy exclaimed as he rushed to gather up his papers, "How you been?"

Jack righted his own papers and smiled crookedly, Mush had always been the most forgiving of the boys, "Not too bad." They stood facing each other as an awkward silence grew between them. "How's everyone?" Jack finally asked.

Mush seemed glad to have a reason to speak, "Fine. It's kinda weird without you there of course, but we're all doin' okay."

Jack paused a moment, "How's Ireland?"

"I think she's still upset about...you know," he scuffed his foot across the pavement, making a stark line in the white snow, "She's okay and all, but she goes on lots of walks by herself."

The taller boy cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Will you tell everyone I said hello?"

Mush nodded quietly and the two boys moved on in their separate directions. Jack felt a cold weight of gloom settle solidly in his stomach, it was the beginning of a _very_ long day.

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Eager to be cheered up, Jack went to _Verte Violette _as soon as he'd finished selling for the day. The doorman smiled at him as he passed by, and various crewmembers shouted their greetings. Even Albert nodded gruffly as they met in the hallway.

Roxanne was reading in her dressing room when Jack arrived. She smiled at the sight of him, "You look like someone shoved snow in your pants, "she informed him, "You're awfully gloomy."

He sighed as he flopped down beside her on the sofa, "Long day, that's all," he gently traced the curve of her cheek with his fingers, inhaling deeply on the scent of jasmine, "But I feel better now."

Roxanne put her book aside, "So serious!" she teased kissing his cheek, "You need some fun. Mr. Kelly."

"So does that mean we're going to spend some time together tonight?"

She shook her head, "I have an engagement, but I some of my friends are having a party. You could go with them."

Jack snorted, "I'm not going to bother if you won't be there. I'm not much good at being social these days."

"All the more reason for you to go," she insisted. He was quiet, "Look, your friends will come around eventually." She laced her fingers with his, "But in the meantime learn to lighten up."

He brushed his lips across her fingers, "If you really think so..."

"I do," she interjected, "You'll have a wonderful time."

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Jack did not have a wonderful time. He did not have a bad time either. He simply spent the whole evening bored out of his wits sitting among people he didn't know talking about other people he didn't know and places he'd never been. If it had not been for the steady supply of liquid refreshment available he was not at all certain he wouldn't have screamed at the utter tedium of it all. Thoroughly depressed, he returned to Gray Court by ten and fell into bed, desperate to feel nothing.

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The monotony of the next days made Jack feel as though he were banging his head on a brick wall. The weather continued to be gray and bone-cracking cold, the headlines did not improve, and Roxanne was constantly inaccessible. It was to the point where Jack didn't even see her when he stopped by _Violette_. Often she left notes with the doorman, or had her maid wait for Jack to tell him that her mistress would not be available. He walked around with a perpetual scowl creasing his features. Even the boys who had been amiable to him began to steer clear.

The first of December dawned the coldest yet. Frost glazed over the insides of the windows and outside a thick coating of ice covered every flat surface. Jack was sure that if he stood still too long he would freeze too.

It was mid-afternoon when he stood huddled around a firing barrel with a group of strangers, all desperately trying to bring some feeling back into their stiff fingers. Suddenly, Oscar Delancey appeared and clapped another boy on the back, "Charlie, you wouldn't believe the week I've had!" Jack kept his head down to avoid detection as Oscar and his friend moved into the alley to talk.

Oscar stretched languidly, dropping onto a pile of old crates. "It all started with this raise that I got at work. I'm getting a whole five cents more an hour!" Charlie whistled with appreciation, "Well at first I couldn't figure out how to celebrate, but then Morris suggests I spend it on a dame for the night and it hits me: Only one place in the world to go if you're gonna spend your cash that way."

Charlie's eyes widened, "_Verte Violette_?" he whispered with shocked reverence; Oscar nodded with immense self-satisfaction, "How'd you get in?"

"My Uncle goes way back with one of the top managers. I didn't have to pay _nothin_' to get in! Works out real well since I needed it later." he winked at his friend.

"Who?" he asked eagerly

"Roxanne herself!" Jack's head sprang up at the sound of her name, "Not only that," Oscar went on, "But we've been spending the whole week together. Every day...and night!" The two boys chuckled lecherously, not noticing the ominous form of Jack Kelly approaching them like an avalanche of menace.

Jack seized Oscar by his shirt front, "You're lying!" he snarled.

"Not at all," Oscar smirked, tugging his shirt straight, "If I was lying I'd talk about what a great kisser that girl is, but as it happens, we ain't really kissed much." He puffed his chest out with self-importance, "She says she cares too much about me to treat me exactly like her other customers."

Jack smashed him across the face, "You're lying!"

Oscar clutched his bloody nose, "Jesus, Cowboy! What the hell is your problem?"

Jack slung him into a wall, listening to the crack of breaking ribs with sadistic rage, "Tell me it's not true!" he screamed. Oscar clutched his ribs trying to fend off his attacker as Charlie jumped on Jack's back. With one swift twist, Jack dislodged the smaller boy, sending him flying into a wall, unconscious. Oscar attempted to flee, and was caught up short as Jack wrenched him back by his shirt.

"Tell me it's not true!" he slamming his prey against a wall, Oscar's face went gray with pain as an anguished scream tore from his throat. "Tell me you're lying!" Jacks knocked his head against the wall, furious when no response was given, "Tell me!" Again and again he cracked Oscar's skull over the brick, listening to the splintering of bone and the screams of torment...but no admission. Suddenly, he realized that the screaming had stopped. Blood trickled freely out of Oscar's mouth, making crimson streams down his chin. The boy's eyes were blank, his body limp. Jack released the corpse to the ground without thinking. Turning rapidly, he tore off down the alley, heading to Roxanne's house, numb to what he'd just done. _She'll tell me it's not true! _He thought feverishly, _She'll make it alright!_

He exploded through the front door without knocking. The housekeeper had been coming down the stairs and looked up startled, "She'll not see you today, Mr. Kelly..." she began. Jack hurtled up the stairs, sending the woman tumbling to the ground, "You can't go up there," she screamed from the floor, "She won't see you!"

Jack burst through the door to Roxanne's room and stopped very suddenly. She had been eating supper. Neatly she placed her knife and fork on a tray and stood. She was so beautiful, so mysterious in her black silk dressing gown. Her eyes seemed to sparkle extra brightly that day, accented by the shiny ebony curls spiraling around her shoulders. Her porcelain skin was luminescent in the firelight. "Tell me it's not true." He begged, gasping for breath, "Please tell me."

Her ruby lips tilted into a smile as intoxicating laughter bubbled over her lips, "What's not true, Jack?"

He gasped for breath suddenly aware that his lungs were on fire, "Oscar..."

She kissed him softly then laughed again, "Of course it's true." Jack felt as though he were drowning, "I'm sorry I didn't mention it."

He gaped at her, "But you..."

"Actually Jack," she interjected "I'm glad we had this opportunity to talk." Roxanne crossed back to the window and lolled against the ledge, "I think it's time for us to move on."

Jack felt as though he were standing in a very thick fog. He heard Roxanne's words, but somehow, could not register them, "What?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, "Well, it's just that we've been seeing each other for a couple of months, and it was very nice, but Oscar was a reminder that I need to get back to serious work." He continued to stare at her as though he comprehended nothing. Roxanne sighed deeply, "We're breaking up, Jack." She said as gently as she could.

A tidal wave crashed through the fog, setting Jack free. Raw pain replaced every other sensation in his body, ripping through each nerve, searing his very blood, "No!" He cried out, "No, we're not! We can't! Why..."

"You were fun Jack. You were like a vacation. I needed it, but now it's done." She shrugged, "Oscar could pay me, and I've got a number of affluent clients stacked up behind him. I don't have time for you anymore."

Jack felt as though he were forcing words out of his throat, they cracked as they fell from his lips, "I was _fun_" he managed, "You made me believe you loved me!"

"Well," she had guilt enough to look down, "I am a professional."

"I...I gave up everything for you! My friends, my home...everything!" His eyes and throat burned, he was about to explode with the pain.

Roxanne looked up, her glittering eyes met his squarely, "I never asked you to, Jack." Silence roared for long seconds as lightning fizzled between them. Slowly, she turned to face the window, "I think you'd better leave, Mr. Kelly." She said quietly to the paned glass.

Jack stood stock still, feet leaden and weighted to the floor. He stared at her back, as slowly, very slowly, a new emotion began to fill him from soles to crown. She had bewitched him, betrayed him and left him for dead. She had taken what she wanted and run. There was no consequence for Roxanne, but he had lost everything he cared about over her...over this cold, self-serving..._whore_. She would _not_ turn her back on him now. Frigid hate poured over him in a glacial stream. He could not think, could not breath, only wanted to hurt her back.

Something flashed silver in the waning sunlight. Roxanne's cutlery from dinner lay neglected on the tray. His gaze sluiced over the exquisitely worked handle to the gleaming, narrow blade of the knife, sharpened to hair-splitting precision. He slowly picked it up, marveling at how the sunset danced over the edge of the steel. He turned it, this way and that, and suddenly, the mirror-bright surface caught the image of Roxanne. His eyes, cold, mad eyes slid upward to her. She would pay.

She never heard him come as she smiled out at the street, waiting to see his defeated figure walking off. Jack seized her brutally by her hair, pressing the edge or the blade against her soft throat. Roxanne gasped in mortal fear, her hands desperately clutching at his, finger nails making deep treads in his flesh. He never even flinched.

"You made me believe you loved me." He whispered viciously against her hair, the scent of jasmine cloying his senses. "You killed me."

"Jack, please..." Roxanne pleaded voice weak with terror.

He pressed the knife ever so slightly; she felt it penetrate just a hair's breath into her ivory throat. Jack placed his mouth against her ear; she could feel hot tears on his cheek, "Say you love me." He whispered haltingly, "Say it now."

"I do," she whispered, frantic to yet save herself, "I love you, Jack."

He paused for just a moment, feeling her tremble against him, feeling her nails scrambling over his hands, drinking in her fear and her pain...

"You lie!" he spat. In a swift, violent motion he jerked the knife across her throat. Warm blood gushed over his hands, as Roxanne fell limp against him, a death gasp still upon her lips. He shoved her away from him, twisting the corpse as it fell. Blood cascaded like wine over her chest, painting her lily skin and changing black silk to sickly midnight purple. Her dark hair spread around her, soaking its share of the scarlet juice as it dribbled from her throat. Her eyes were frozen wide, terrified, and forever still. All the fire had gone from them.

Jack's bloody hands dropped to his sides, the knife hitting the floor with a soft thud. He stared at this beautiful creature. This beautiful dead creature that had killed him as surely as he had her. "I would have loved you," he whispered to her death pale face, "You knew that too." Slowly, never taking his eyes from her lifeless features, he leaned down and kissed her softly on her crimson lips, still warm. "I would have loved you."

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Whew. Now wasn't that fun everybody? Seriously, I got pretty upset while I was writing this. It was even more emotionally draining than my last update. One more chapter to go. Makes me sad I'm almost done. Anyway, I hope you got something good out of this chapter...please review!!!!

**My Dog Ate My Penname: **Hey, it don't matter when you review, I'm just glad you did ;) Yeah, Jack is a major idiot and in real life I probably would have hit him for being such a moron. ::le sigh:: Oh well. Thanks for the review, love!

**Emerald Tears: **I'm glad you like it so much. I'm not a very popular author, but it feels good to hear that people enjoy my work. You get chocolate dipped Newsies for giving me the warm-and-fuzzies. Thank for reviewing! ;)

**newsiesmoseph: **Well you know, men have two heads and only enough blood to sustain one at a time. I wonder which one Jack is using right now? He is being a total moron, but I need him to be for the story to work, so I guess, in essence, he's just doing his job. But in real life I woulda slugged him for hitting me, that's all I have to say about that. Thanks for reviewing! ;)

**Cyanne 76: **Thanks darling'! I can't get over how much positive response I've been getting for this story. I'm really glad you're able to get into it. Thank you so much for reviewing, I gift you with chocolate dipped Newsies as a token of my great appreciation. ;)

**LadyRach: **Your love for Roxanne is overwhelming. Jack is a total moron, and he deserves no friends after all this, but we shall see. I'm actually debating whether or not I wanna expand on Roxanne's psyche a little bit in the final chapter. There is a reason why she's so sadistic and controlling, but I'm working out the kinks in it right now. I don't know how it will fit with the flow of the rest of the story. ::shrugs:: We'll see. Thanks for the lovely review! ;)

**Sapphy: **Yes! That's it Sapphy! Dictionary her to death! Run her down with SAT vocabulary until her head explodes! I feel all happy knowing you got outraged over her insulting me. It makes me feel loved. I don't wanna expand on what you and Race did that whole time...you fill in the blanks, but whatever you were doing, it must have been pretty darn interesting if you didn't hear the screaming match downstairs. ::whistles innocently::

Thanks for reviewing love, ::big hug:: ;)

I promise I'll be updating soon, after all, we're only one chapter left to go! Have a happy Halloween (or Samhain as the ancient Celts would call it...it's actually a much cooler holiday than plain old Halloween). Remember, don't eat any poisoned apples, I need you back here to review! Lots of love...;)


	8. Now He Is Free

Let me just say that I have loved writing this piece. I mean, come on, Roxanne is creepy and bitchy and tons of fun to write. Even more, I loved that you guys loved it. Seriously, this sounds cliché, but ya'll make me feel like some kind of star even on my worst days. So, for the last time, Disney owns Newsies, TCF owns Moulin Rouge...you know how it goes. Enjoy the final chapter.

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The sound of raised voices downstairs brought Jack spiraling out of insanity. He blinked slowly, unsure of what was going on, or even of who he was. It was as though he stood beside his own body, watching everything from somewhere else. His hands were slick with scarlet liquid, sticky and thick. Looking down, he began to shake. He had killed her. "Oh God," he whispered, "I didn't mean to..."

The door to the room burst open, denting the wall where it struck. The house keeper and several other girls huddled behind the police officer. Gasps of horror rang out as they recoiled at the scene. The sergeant appraised the situation with a practiced coolness: The girl lay on the floor, throat slit, blood pooling around her, a blood stained knife gleamed on the floor nearby. The boy stood over her mangled form, trembling as silent tears crept down his sickly-pale cheeks. It was obvious what had happened.

Jack turned to look at the intruders, eyes haunted and wide. "I'm so sorry," he whispered in a strangled voice, "I didn't mean to do it. I loved her...she was...I didn't..."

The sergeant drew Jack away gently, "Come on, son."

Jack came without resistance, still feeling as though he were a spectator in the whole affair, "I didn't mean to..."

"I know," the sergeant was kindly as could be, "But you have to come along."

The girl who had once warned Roxanne against Jack watched them descend the stairs while the police coroner covered the body of her ill-fated friend. Her glanced shifted between the two. The young man and the girl he had loved. The two lived shattered to pieces on the floor. She leaned her head against the door frame, eyes closed in closeted grief, "I told you it would get messy, Roxie," she said to the air, "Emotions always are."

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Ireland was in her favorite thinking spot on the rail of the Brooklyn Bridge. The river looked pretty that evening; the setting sun had finally broken through the clouds to paint the steely wavelets rose and lavender. She sighed deeply, just wishing she could turn time back to October, before Jack met Roxanne, before she had driven a wedge between all of them, before life had been so complex. What she wouldn't give just to have everything back the way it was...

A breathless approach broke her longing thoughts. She turned, sliding off the rail as she did so to come face to face with Blink, bent double and breathing heavily, "Blink, you okay?" Ireland waited impatiently as he struggled for enough air to speak, "What happened?"

"You ain't never gonna believe this," he gasped out, "Oscar's dead." Ireland's eyes widened, as her friend nodded, "But that ain't all, Charlie Pyle says it was Jack..."

There was a large crowd around the alley as they approached. Ireland and Blink skidded to s stop between Spot and Race as the coroner carried away a body in a crimson-stained sheet. Charlie Pyle was nursing a bloody nose as he answered questions.

"He was crazy," Charlie accepted the policeman's handkerchief and pressed it to his streaming nose, wincing against cracked ribs, "He was just screaming and slamming Oscar into the wall. I don't think Saint Patrick coulda' stopped him."

The policeman took notes briskly, "Did Oscar say anything that might have made Jack angry?"

Charlie shook his head, "I dunno, sir. Oscar was just tellin' me about his new girl, Roxanne from Verte Violette, and Kelly went berserk. Kept yellin' at him to say it wasn't true."

The officer glanced up at his chief purposefully, "Double homicide," he reported quietly.

Ireland went ashen. All around her mouths dropped, eyes widened. The boys exchanged terrified glances. Spot gripped her by her arms, "Ireland..."

"I have to go," she whispered.

"Ireland, it's probably too late," Race struggled over the words.

"But it might not be!" she was more desperate than certain, "We have to find him."

But even as she spoke these words, the police cart rolled up to the alley. They all turned, silently praying over what they did not want to see. Jack hung on the iron bars of the side, head hung in terrible defeat.

Ireland was the first to race past the police guard to him, "Jack!" her fingers twined about his. He looked up, a new haunted look in his over bright hazel eyes.

His gaze seemed to bore into hers; "I'm sorry," his voice was destroyed with screaming, "To all of you."

"We forgive you Jacky-boy," Spot was the first to reply; all around him heads were nodding.

Jack tried to smile and failed, "Ireland?" he looked back to her.

Silence passed between them and then she kissed his fingers, "Always, Jack."

The guard gently pulled her back as the cart lurched into motion; Jack's eyes remained locked on his friends until they rounded the corner and vanished from sight.

A dark figure watched it go from the alley, "You're going to pay for this you little Mick bastard," he growled, "When you get out, I'll be waiting."

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A crack of thunder brought everyone hurling back to the present as the stranger fell silent. They stared at him, stunned into speechlessness. "That was thirty years ago, the story of Roxanne," he finally said, turning his tortured eyes on Robert, "That's why you can't love someone who sells herself. It will kill you slowly, day by day until you hate yourself more than her." He drank deeply from his tankard, "Just remember that once it's done it's done."

He cast a final glance around the shadowed room, letting them drink in the full extent of his meaning. Without another word he drew his coat around him and strode to the door. "But wait," came a voice from near the fire, "Whatever happened to Jack?"

The stranger paused and finally his face seemed to lighten, "He was paroled...and he's seeing his friends for the first time in thirty years tonight."

The rain had finally slowed, and the thunder was receding into the distance. Two blocks down, he could see two figures huddled under the meager illumination of the streetlight. For the first time in many years he felt a smile come to his face.

A figure stepped out of a doorway, blocking his path. A white haired man, his wrinkled face twisted and lined with cruelty stood in the way, the barrel of an ancient revolver gleaming dully in the poor light. "It's time for you to pay," his voice was dark and terrible, and yet there was something familiar about him.

"You know what she did to me was worse Albert," he did not plead with the old manager of Verte Violette, merely stated the fact.

"I don't care what she did to you boy, my daughter was the best money in the whole city," he leveled off the weapon, "You cost me huge profits, boy."

Jack did not blink, he'd known for years, "Don't do it, Albert, not over something this twisted. It's not like you loved her,"

"But I did love the cash she brought in," his eyes glinted cruelly, "No body steals from me, Kelly."

Jack caught his breath, "I don't deserve this," he was more angry than scared, "Not over her,"

"You're might be right, Kelly," Albert smirked, "My daughter was worthless, like her mother," his eyes darkened briefly, "But she earned me more money than I ever dreamed...like I said: Nobody steals from me."

Jack closed his eyes in final resignation, and his world shattered into black.

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A gunshot split the murky night viciously. Ireland's head whipped around in time to see the shape of a man crumple to the ground as his assailant fled. Her heart stopped as she flew down the block, Spot trailing close behind.

She threw herself on the ground beside him, sobbing as crimson blood flowed from his chest into the gutter, his eyes wide and staring in the final shock of the impact. An inhuman cry of total anguish tore from her chest to echo over Boston, a keening death wail for the soul of her friend.

Slowly she sat up, her blouse stained scarlet with Jack's lifeblood. With gentle, trembling fingers, she closed his eyelids. "You're free now, Jack," she whispered to his spirit, "You're free of it all."

Spot helped her to stand, silent tears flowing down his own cheeks. Drowning in knife-sharp grief the two held each other close and waited for daybreak when they all would be found. Somewhere overhead a tiny hole shifted into the heavy clouds and the silvery stars glittered down to the earth as Jack Kelly finally flew free.

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Wow! I can't believe it's done! So now that we're all thoroughly depressed, what did you think? As you see, Roxanne really did have a terrible situation that made her so cold and heartless. She also may be subject to some genetic insanity (I mean Albert's pretty freaky too). So, I just want to thank you all for being with me through this. I love you all so much...you're positive comments made me glow every time I read them. I'm putting up a new story for Christmas soon and it's going to have a CC...just thought I'd give you a head's up. And now, on to the final shout-outs:

**Elyse: **Thanks for reviewing! I'm so glad you liked it, but you definitely picked a very sad chapter to catch up on...and this one was even worse. But even so, I hope you enjoyed the rest of the story. Thanks again darlin'! ;)

**Lady Rach: **Wow! I can't believe something I wrote affected you that way! I feel so special! So, now you know why Roxanne is as she is, and you also saw Jack figure himself out...right after it was too late. Sorry on that, but it added beautifully to the dark nature of the story. Thank you for being such a faithful reviewer, and always having such nice comments. I love you girl! ;)

**ChocolatesKelly: **Thank you very much. He did apologize and everything was hunky-dory...except for the fact that he went to jail and then, you know, died. But you gotta admit it packed a punch! Thanks for reviewing love! ;)

**Cyanne 76: **Thank you so much! I can't believe how into this story everyone is! It really makes me feel like I've accomplished something. Alas, Jack has realized the error of his ways but only when he had done the unforgivable. I feel kinda bad I did that to him, but not bad enough to consider changing it. Thanks so much for your great comments in your reviews, I really appreciate them. Lots of love ;)

**newsiesmoseph: **Well, obviously both your questions got answered: Jack murdered Oscar and he never did move back to the lodging house...he went to another kind of house. I really wouldn't have wished Roxanne's fate on anyone, it's a terrible way to die, but it added so beautifully to my dramatic elements. Thank you so much for all your positive support of my story. You don't know how happy it makes me that you enjoy it so much. Massive amount of love! ;)

**My Dog Ate My Penname: **Wow, I moved you to speechlessness. I can't believe how this story affected everyone. It makes me feel so good. Thanks for all your great reviews and support throughout the piece. I might not have been able to finish without knowing I had you all at my back. Love, hugs and a thousand (chocolate) kisses. Thanks darlin'! ;)

**Sapphy: **Ah Sapphy-love...so it is down to you, and it is down to me...but no battle of wits cuz its late and I'm tired (Princess Bride overload!). You've been there with love and support from the first chapter and you've made those valiant efforts to garner more readers for me. I can't tell you how much I love you babe! Really, just having you behind me made me want to update just to hear what you'd say. I'll have my CC story up soon, am I correct in expecting input from you? Thanks again darlin', I'll be seeing you soon! ;)


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